


7734

by Yaboybutternubs



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Implied/Referenced Incest, Komaru has a talent, M/M, Mystery, Non-Chronological, Supernatural Elements, Ultimate Talent Development Plan (Dangan Ronpa), do not be fooled by the utdp tag, this is not a happy fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaboybutternubs/pseuds/Yaboybutternubs
Summary: Almighty Lord, we have come to Your halldo GlateM livE, creator of allOpen your heart and you will find a wayParadise calling, and enter you mayKorekiyo accepts an invitation to Hope's Peak to seek refuge from the law, though the death penalty soon becomes the least of his worries.
Relationships: Amami Rantaro/Shinguji Korekiyo, Ikusaba Mukuro/Naegi Makoto, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 18
Kudos: 34





	1. The Dawn Of Time Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> idk how good of an idea it is to start a new series before I finish my current but whatever here we gooooooooooo  
> also jsut to clarify this takes place in a sort of fusion of dr3 and the utdp, with the characters from all three main games (except for junko who has been replaced by komaru) attending Hope's Peak at the same time while the dr3 characters (except for kyosuke which will be explained later) work as faculty

Korekiyo adjusted his mask in what he knew was a vain attempt to look unperturbed by the stuffed animal staring him down from the screen, to say nothing of the woman controlling it. He couldn’t quite understand why he was so uncomfortable, though he certainly felt that way. After committing murder after murder and nearly being faced with the prospect of capital punishment, this adorable little rabbit was somehow the most unnerving thing he’d seen in as long as he could remember.

“Come on, take a seat!” ‘Usami gestured as it brought its paws/hands/stubs close to its mouth. “I promise I don’t bite!”

He did as the rabbit commanded, once again unsure why he felt compelled to obey it.

In his short yet undeniably fruitful career as an anthropologist, he had learned many different unspoken rules about human fear, more specifically the ones that were consistent among all cultures. The uncanny valley may not have been the most fascinating of these consistencies, but it certainly was the first one that came to mind at the moment.

The idea of this being his therapist unnerved him far more than his own actions ever could. Humanity truly could be beautiful at times, but this did not make it any less confusing.

He did eventually follow the rabbit’s instructions, though not before sparing a spiteful glance at the woman behind the keyboard. Miaya didn’t seem to pay any mind to it; perhaps she was used to seeing the indignation on her patient’s faces when they realized that this really was how she communicated.

“I’m so happy that you came!” Usami exclaimed as she leapt for joy, causing a rainbow to spread across the blue skies behind her.

“That statement does not match the look on your face at all.” He responded while attempting to look Miaya in the eye. Her face, however, was thoroughly fixated on the keyboard.

Usami continued, undeterred by Korekiyo’s open hostility.

“Did you spend some more of your free time with your friends like I asked?”

Korekiyo sighed deeply as he rubbed his hands across his covered cheeks.

“Yes, I spent one hour of my day yesterday with my _classmates_ , just as you requested. No less time than that, and certainly no more.”

“Yippee!” The rabbit exclaimed as she jumped for joy once again. Korekiyo couldn’t help but notice that something seemed to light up in his therapist’s eyes as she heard his answer. He knew full well what that fire in her eyes was, and it was only right that he did his best to extinguish it.

“Wasn’t it so much fun to be around others?” She asked, eagerly awaiting his reply as she idly twirled her magic staff.

“Absolutely not.” He responded in a tone that brokered no room for argument. She would find some way to dispute it regardless, but for now it was enough that he communicated how he was feeling to his new therapist. He continued so as to not allow himself to dwell on the irony of his reasoning.

“That’s okay, you know.” The rabbit replied. “For now, I think it’s more than enough that you put yourself out there. Is there anyone you liked among them?”

“Stop asking such inane questions. I just said I hated every second I spent with them.”

“Eek! I’m so sorry.” She exclaimed as she burst into tears, though Miaya’s face was as stoic as ever. “Is there at least anyone you don’t hate as much as everyone else?”

“No. Let us move on from this topic of discussion.”

“Are you sure?” Usami asked as she brought herself closer to the monitor. The tears from just a few seconds ago had disappeared in but an instant.

“These sessions are nowhere in the agreement I made with headmaster Kirigiri in regard to my enrollment in this academy. I could just leave right now.” Korekiyo spat out, praying to every god whose name he could remember that the vitriol in his voice would convince Miaya to drop the topic. He certainly hadn’t been lying about his naked contempt for everyone in this academy, but there was one who he found… unique.

“But you keep coming here anyway.” Usami’s voice had become far more serious than ever before. “I think I know why that is.”

Korekiyo would not even pretend to humor the nonsense he knew she was about to spout, so he opted to stay silent. That silence permeated through the air for a minute, though Usami did eventually speak up again.

“How was your day today?”

Korekiyo knew better than to believe she had given up the chase of making him say what she wanted him to, though he was undeniably interested in where such a generic question could lead.

Then again, it was possible his “condition” had trumped even the ultimate therapist.

“Little has changed since we spoke last week.” The anthropologist responded, as cautious as he was curious. “I’ve continued my research-“

“What kind of research?” The rabbit tilted her head quizzically.

It seemed that even her desire to remain as professional as possible in these sessions was not enough to prevent her more personal curiosities from seeping in. Korekiyo was grateful for the opportunity to talk down to her for once.

“The kind you’re not allowed to know about.” He snapped back in an instant. “Headmaster Kirigiri very explicitly told me that my findings were not to be discussed with anyone he had not directly approved for access to said findings.”

“Yeesh, no need to be mean about it…” Usami pouted. “I’m just trying to illustrate a point.”

“And that point is?” This entire conversation was like ripping off a bandage and he dearly wanted to end the process as soon as possible.

The anthropologist chuckled as he noticed Miaya’s eyes twitch slightly at his question. Perhaps she was not as infinitely patient as she would have liked to illustrate herself as.

“Look, this research you’re doing; it’s important right?” Usami’s voice was curiously devoid of whatever childlike glee typically infected it, though it had not actually changed in a tangible way.

“It is more important than you could possibly imagine.” Korekiyo replied, though even these words failed to properly communicate the unfathomable scale of what he was trying to accomplish here at Hope’s Peak. “After all, it would have to be important for your employer to be so eager to cover up all the horrible, horrible things I’ve done.”

“Well, I assumed as much, but regardless of what you did before you came to this school, you’re-“

“You mean the murders, do you not?”

“Um, yes-“

“Those ninety seven women I killed, yes?”

“Yes, now-“

“I know the police records that headmaster Kirigiri showed me only tied fifty one murders back to me, but they were only focused on the murders I had committed in Japan. Apparently investigating murders committed abroad is just too much of a bother for our country’s finest.”

“Look-“

“The youngest one was only ten years old. Did you know that? Her body was on the news for weeks, though I don’t think they ever found her-”

“Listen to me!” Usami shouted as previously non-existent eyebrows curved downward to express her frustration. “The reason I brought up both your research into whatever it is Jin is interested in as well as your murders is that I wanted to illustrate something about you.”

“And what could you possibly hope to illustrate with these two things?” He asked with a bitter and humorless chuckle. “That I’ve finally come to realize that murder is wrong, and now I’m working toward some greater good? How childish.”

Usami was locked in her default pose and was unresponsive. Korekiyo wasted no time in taking this opportunity to continue.

“If you truly wish to illustrate my sins to me, then answer this; Why do you not feel guilt for your complacency in all these deaths?”

Usami remained silent.

“This academy has just as much blood on its hands as I do! After all, if you’re willing to hide evidence from the police to allow my attendance here, how are you any different from me every time I bury a body to make it harder to find?”

Korekiyo was the one who went silent this time, allowing Miaya to muster up whatever pathetic retort she could think of.

“Since you seem like you’re finished, can I say what I was going to say now?” This cartoon rabbit’s anger would have been quite amusing, were it not for the woman controlling it.

The anthropologist let an annoyed sigh escape his lips, and Miaya took this an indicator that it was her turn to speak.

“The reason I brought all of that up in the order that I did is because I’m trying to show you how little you’ve changed since your enrollment in Hope’s Peak.” The rabbit seemed to have returned to its usual happy-go-lucky state, though the therapist’s eyes were still filled with an indiscernible fire.

“How little?” Korekiyo aped her words, dumbfounded yet thoroughly amused by them. “Are you truly that unafraid to admit how catastrophically you have failed at making me see the light?”

“That’s ‘cause you don’t need my help to do that, silly! I just need you to learn healthy ways to express your guilt.” Usami giggled. While Korekiyo certainly hated those moments where the rabbit would break character, this childish condescension was infinitely worse.

“Enlighten me.” He growled out. “How have I shown you any guilt whatsoever? I regret nothing I did in the name of my sister.”

“Well…” Usami kicked the grassy soil beneath her feet as she searched for the right words. “You agreed to enroll here and not commit any more murders, right?”

“Yes.” He admitted, though he would not allow such a statement to leave his lips without some sort of qualifier. “I agreed to come here on the condition that the police be thrown off my trail. Pausing my pursuit of reaching one hundred departed souls was one of the conditions for this. Is it that unbelievable that I would agree to such a thing with a noose around my neck as the alternative?”

“Yes, actually.” Usami responded. “You told me in our first session that your sister meant more to you than anything in the world, right?”

The anthropologist squinted at Miaya, knowing where this was going but hoping that he was wrong somehow.

“Yes, what of it? She was everything to me in life, and she shall be everything to me in my death.”

“Then why did you agree to come here?” Usami was unmoving. “If it was that important to you, you would have just declined, and eventually been caught and killed.”

“I do not like what you’re implying.” He snapped. “You would dare question my loyalty to sister!?”

“I’m not questioning it any more than you are.” The rabbit responded without missing a beat. “There’s some good in you, Korekiyo, and I believe it led you here to this school, research or not. I can see it as clearly as the blood of all those poor girls on your hands.”

Korekiyo took a moment to collect himself. It took all he had to suppress the urge to add the woman to his list of victims, her knowledge of his true nature be damned.

“We’re done here.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“If you say so…” Usami lamented as she let out her crocodile tears before reverting back to her usual self. “Just be sure to spend some more time with you friends!”

He didn’t respond, opting instead to slam the door to her office behind him as hard as he could. That she had the gall to make such baseless accusations had absolutely floored Korekiyo. The anthropologist was no more than a tool for dear sister’s designs. How Miaya failed to see this was beyond him. Agreeing to come here was the result of a moment of weakness and nothing more.

Deciding that returning to his studies would help him calm down after such an unsavory encounter, he began to make his way to the library. He looked out the windows as he walked, both to avoid eye contact with other students by pretending to watch the setting of the sun and to try and calm himself down. Only one of these actually happened, but this was mostly due to nobody wanting to talk to Korekiyo to begin with.

As he plainly stated in his joke of a therapy session, he was fine with this. Being alone at all times was a deliberate choice on his part, after all. All others were distractions in the face of his promise to sister.

He pulled open the door to the back room of the library and mentally prepared himself for another long night of pouring over the same classified files over and over again. Korekiyo knew that, at this point in his appointed studies, there was little to be gained by reading the information here. His trip to America next week was his only hope to actually further his research. As much as he loathed the hyper consumerist pseudo-cultures of that cesspit of a country, the Utah incident ( _What a polite name for such a massive loss of human life…_ ) could not be ignored.

However, falling asleep surrounded by classified documents had become something of a routine for him. This routine always came to a sour end when he woke up in the morning to see Byakuya Togami staring him down and calling him a ‘worthless prole’ or some such nonsense, but there was a comfort in losing oneself in study.

He stepped into the room, grabbed the book he fell asleep while reading last night, then placed it down on the desk. _The Months of Shame_ was a bizarre tale from ancient Nordic folklore, with far too many timely events in its passages to be a coincidence. It was no wonder this otherwise meaningless myth was kept so tightly behind lock and key.

The anthropologist then realized the door to the room was still open.

“So how’d you get permission to get in here?”

Korekiyo turned around to see his classmate Rantaro Amami holding the door to the backroom open with his foot while trying to look as nonchalant as possible about it.

“They don’t just let anyone in this room, you know. The information in here is quite sensitive.” The anthropologist responded after returning to reading his book. He did his best to turn the visibly weathered pages carefully lest they be torn by the slightest misapplication of force.

“Yeah, that’s kinda my point.” Rantaro retorted. “The only other people allowed in here are Kyoko, Byakuya, and Sonia. Byakuya and Sonia make sense, they probably already know about all the important secrets in this room anyway. Kyoko isn’t that weird either since she’s the headmaster’s daughter.”

Rantaro let himself into the room and waited for the door to close behind him before continuing.

“But you’re just an anthropologist. It’s really confusing me. what’s so special about you?”

“Nothing that you should concern yourself with.” Korekiyo sighed out as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Speaking of the privilege to enter this room, can you give me a reason that I should not inform Kiyotaka that you have violated school rules by coming in here?”

“Because I’m just that charming and handsome?” Rantaro offered, his cocky smirk unmoving. “Come on, humor me. I love a good mystery!”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” The ultimate traveler certainly wasn’t unattractive, but that didn’t matter to Korekiyo of all people. “Besides, what would be the benefit of humoring you?”

“I’ll leave you alone for a little bit.” Rantaro replied as he moved closer to the desk Korekiyo was sitting at.

“What do you want from me?” Korekiyo asked as his ability to mask his annoyance behind his elegant tone began to fade.

“You’re mysterious, I like that in a guy.” Rantaro replied without hesitation. “That, and I really wanna see what you’re reading.”

The traveler leaned over Korekiyo’s shoulder to look at the book and froze, his eyes filled with an indescribable emotion not unlike the one that filled Miaya when Korekiyo told her about his sister for the first time. It was a look of shock and anger, though it quickly gave way to Rantaro’s usual aloof self once more.

“Apologies.” Korekiyo remarked with no remorse in his voice whatsoever. “I should have warned you this tale is quite graphic.”

“Oh no, it’s not that.” Rantaro reassured him with a wave of his hands, though his expression grew dark once more. “Believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of violence.”

“I guess that makes two of us…” Korekiyo mused.

“What?”

“What?”

Silence fell over the pair as they both realized how much oversharing they had just done.

“Y’know what, I’m not gonna look this gift horse in the mouth. Let’s just pretend that bit never happened.” Rantaro sighed out.

“Gladly.”

“Anyways,” Rantaro began, the discomfort in voice damn near palpable. “I was gonna say that the reason I was put off by the book is ‘cause the part with the spears seemed familiar.”

“Very well, it seems it is my turn to be confused.” Korekiyo retorted as he pinched the bridge of his nose through his mask. “How on earth is an illustration of a Nordic warrior queen being stabbed to death by javelins from the sky familiar to you?”

“Look, I didn’t say that I was gonna make sense, okay?” He placed his hands on his hips and sighed as he searched for the right words. “It just reminds me of my oldest sister. She worked as a mercenary for a time, and-”

“I fail to see what that has to do with the story. You realize that made even less sense, do you not?” Korekiyo was dumbfounded at this point.

“Rantaro, you do realize that, right?”

“Look, she died…” Rantaro’s voice trailed off as he turned his gaze to the floor. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“In a similar manner to this woman?” Korekiyo asked, his curiosity now piqued.

“Look, I said I’d rather not talk about it.” Rantaro insister, though the bitterness in his voice suggested that Korekiyo’s intuition had been correct.

“Personal boundaries didn’t seem to matter when you made your way in here. _Humor me_. Tell me your secrets, and maybe I shall tell you mine.”

Rantaro let out a defeated sigh before responding.

“Alright, fine. But not tonight. Let’s just meet here tomorrow and I’ll tell you.”

The traveler made his to the door and looked back once his cocky demeanor returned to him.

“It’s a date?”

“If that will get you to talk, then yes.”


	2. See The Sun Rise To The Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer than expected, sorry ;-; real life has been rough lately and It's kind of killed my motivation to write but I think I'm finally starting to get back into the swing of it  
> Anyways Mukuro and Makoto finally make their entrance in this chapter!

The bell that signaled the end of the day rang and the class let out their quiet sighs of relief simultaneously. When Rantaro heard their teacher would be none other than the The Great Gozu, former ultimate wrestler, he was expecting the class to be interesting if nothing else. His expectations were tragically far too high, despite his teacher’s bizarre attire. The man was as stoic and calm as could be when teaching. Even Kokichi, despite his reputation for antics, was unable to get so much as a reaction out of the guy.

Gozu dismissed the class, and Korekiyo shot out of his seat. Rantaro watched with naked curiosity as the anthropologist politely yet firmly made his way through the other students. Miu made some comment about Korekiyo that would surely have made her parents ashamed ( _was that part about the garden hose really necessary?_ ), though the rest of the class let him through without incident. Everyone had learned early on that he would never be willingly be friends with them, though Rantaro seemed to be the only one who was curious as to why.

“So, any luck with the weirdo yet?” Kokichi asked as he leaned over the desk.

Rantaro wouldn’t exactly call what Kokichi was feeling curiosity. At least, not in the same as the way Rantaro felt about Korekiyo. The little prick was interested in the anthropologist for the same reason he was interested in Shuichi and Kaito.

“Didya see what was under his mask? Huh? Didya?” The prankster continued as he bounced around with a feigned childlike excitement.

Kokichi just wanted to see whether or not he could pick on the poor guy.

“Not really.” Rantaro responded as he got out of desk, knowing and dreading that Kokichi would soon follow. “He and I talked in the library for a bit, but it’s not like he told me his darkest secrets or anything.”

Rantaro chose to omit that he had been in the classified room with Korekiyo, not wanting to find out what Kokichi would do with that information.

“Wow! You actually got him to speak back to you? That’s gotta be a first! I’m so proud of you!” Kokichi’s eyes lit up like stars. Rantaro had no idea whether or not this surprise was genuine, but it unnerved him regardless.

“So, what did you two little lovebirds talk about, hmm?” Kokichi asked as he prodded Rantaro’s back.

“Just…” Rantaro’s voice trailed off.

Those damn spears. The traveler still had trouble believing that nightmare really happened.

“Nothing interesting.” He finished his sentence as he finally started walking towards the door. He and Kokichi were the only ones still in the classroom, and Gozu was starting to give them weird looks.

At least, Rantaro _assumed_ they were weird looks. After all, it’s not like anyone could tell through the mask of his.

“Oh?” From the sound of Kokichi’s voice, he was still following closely behind Rantaro.

The little prick definitely wasn’t gonna drop this, he could tell.

“Sounds to me like whatever you were talking about was actually pretty interesting.” Kokichi snickered out as he repeatedly poked the traveler’s backside. Rantaro was too busy trying to find out where Korekiyo went to be annoyed, though.

Rantaro soon found the time to be annoyed after realizing Korekiyo was nowhere to be seen.

“Can you stop it already?” Rantaro sighed out as he finally turned to face his miniscule assailant. “We just talked about some weird stuff that he was researching, okay?”

“Wow the weirdo in a mask who never talks to anyone was talking about weird stuff? I’m shocked.” Kokichi deadpanned. “Come on, I need details! What’s my best buddy in the whole wide world up to when I’m not around?”

Kokichi stood on the tips of his toes to bring himself closer to Rantaro’s face.

“Did you finally ask him out?” He asked with that same fake childlike innocence he always had when he was prodding at people.

“Look, you realize I don’t actually have a crush on the guy, right?” Rantaro asked after pulling him to the side of the hall, praying to whatever cruel god that put him in the same class as Kokichi Ouma that no one was actually listening to anything they were saying. “I’m just curious about what that guy’s deal is, that’s all.”

“Uh, yeah; we all are.” Kokichi responded, his voice filled with sarcasm and contempt. “No one else is actually dumb enough to try and talk to him though. He’s obviously got some skeletons in his closet!”

“Come on, you don’t know that! We’ve been at this school for a few weeks.” Rantaro insisted. “I mean, the headmaster obviously trusts him, since he’s allowed in that one room of the library. He can’t be that bad of a person.”

“Are you sure about that?” The prankster retorted with a smirk. “I mean, I’m the most evil person on earth, and I’m allowed in there…”

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?” Rantaro asked as he crossed his arms.

“Wow, you really think I’m not the supreme leader of all evil?” Kokichi asked as his smirk turned to a childlike grin filled with wonder. “You really are a fucking idiot!”

“Look, that’s not-“ Rantaro let out a deep sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, well, first off, I don’t believe that whole ‘supreme leader’ thing, but I was referring to you being allowed into the back room.”

“Alright, I’ve had my fun…” The humor faded from Kokichi’s voice. “But I feel like we’re getting too far from the point of this conversation.”

“This conversation had a point?”

“I’m trying to be serious here, best buddy!” Kokichi retorted with may or may not have been feigned indignation. “That guy’s bad news.”

The prankster turned to walk away, then stopped to address him without turning around.

“Evil recognizes evil, best buddy. Don’t get any closer to him than you have to.”

The little prick sure had a flair for drama.

With those words, the prankster sauntered off towards Kaito, Maki, and Shuichi. Rantaro sulked away, paying no heed to whatever bizarre and no doubt hilarious antics were unfolding behind him. He set off to look for Korekiyo, though quickly realized he didn’t actually know where the guy spent most of his time other than the library.

That was as good of a place as any to start looking for him. He made his way downstairs to the library to find it occupied by one other person, though the guy certainly carried himself like he was taking up the whole room.

Byakuya just stared at him like he was intruding on the heir’s personal quarters. He sipped his coffee while glaring at Rantaro.

“This seat taken?” Rantaro asked as he sat himself at a different table from Byakuya, who didn’t respond to the traveler. Rantaro certainly wasn’t as bad about it as Kokichi, but he found it hard not to tease people like Byakuya.

“Have you seen Korekiyo anywhere?” Rantaro asked, doing his best to ignore the scowl this question earned him.

“Do I look like I’m in charge of keeping tabs on every peasant in this building?” He retorted without looking up from his book.

“A simple ‘no’ would’ve been enough.”

“No, a simple ‘no’ would not have been enough.” Byakuya slammed his book shut, put it on the table, and got up to look down on Rantaro. “A simple ‘no’ would not have properly communicated my contempt for such inane questions, especially from the likes of you.”

“You must be great at parties.” Rantaro scoffed out. “Seriously, we’re both rich kids, right? Why am I lumped in with all the peasants?”

“Don’t you dare compare our family names!” Byakuya snapped as he clenched his fists in rage. “You lost the right to compare yourself to me the moment you decide to squander your fortune by roaming the world for no reason.”

Rantaro considered himself a pretty reasonable guy. Having gone through everything he’d been through in his globetrotting days, the ultimate traveler experienced enough hardship to not let words get to him. Petty insults tend to have little effect on those who have almost died sailing oceans by themselves after all.

But there was no way in hell he’d let that comment slide.

“I did all of that for my sisters!” It was Rantaro’s turn to get out of his chair and clench his fists in rage. Rantaro soon allowed his cool façade to return to him, though both of them could tell that he was faking it.

“It’s not like you of all people would understand someone caring about their siblings.”

If looks could kill than Rantaro would have been turned to ash right about now. Byakuya glared at him for an uncomfortable amount of time before storming out of the library, not even bothering to take his book or his coffee with him. Rantaro wanted to feel bad for digging up what was pretty obviously a traumatic experience for the guy…

But hey, he started it.

Continuing on that train of thought, the traveler figured it wouldn’t be that big of a deal to finish the guy’s coffee for him. While he was at it, Rantaro might as well read the book he was so interested in. The heir must have gotten it from the locked room, judging from how worn and important it looked. Its pages were yellow with age and had cracks on the edges. It’s title, _The Months of Shame_ , sounded familiar, though Rantaro couldn’t really tell why.

He cracked it open, careful not to accidentally tear any of the pages. He groaned upon realizing that this book was printed in a really old version of Chinese. He should have guessed as much, given the characters used to make the title. Thus, reading the book became a laborious process. At first, his motivation had been no deeper than the desire to spite the Togami, though eventually found himself rapt in attention by the text.

The narration of the book was dry enough to assume that this was some kind of historical document, though the actual events often caused Rantaro to doubt the way he was translating the text. From he could understand, some army form mainland Asia was trying to invade Japan and sent some of their best warriors across the sea, though their boat was lost in a storm. When the only survivor returned, he claimed that they had been brought by a storm to an island guarded by-

“Have you gotten to the part with the spears yet?”

Rantaro tensed up somewhat upon hearing Korekiyo’s voice behind him, trying his best not to let it show how spooked he was.

“It’s an old form of Chinese, far older than the paper it’s been transcribed upon. There’s no shame in taking your time to read it.” Kiyo reassured him, though his voice was neutral as ever.

Rantaro chuckled at the attempt to comfort him, but also to shake the weird vibes his classmate was giving off at the moment.

It didn’t work.

“Yeah, I’m sure you don’t have a problem reading this stuff.” He responded as he carefully turned the page.

“Believe it or not,” Kiyo chuckled out, though it was pretty obvious he was angry about whatever it was he was about to say. “I have been fairing little better than you with this book. After all, my specialty is culture and history, not language. Headmaster Kirigiri seems to have confused anthropology and archeology.”

“Oh, your doing this because the headmaster told you to?” Rantaro asked. There were plenty of instances of teachers at Hope’s Peak directing their student’s studies. However, the traveler had never heard of the headmaster himself getting involved in that stuff.

“Might we continue this conversation in a more private location?” Korekiyo asked as he opened the door to the back room and motioned for him to come inside.

Rantaro accepted the invitation, his curiosity getting the better of him. His masked classmate seemed to full of mysteries, and he was eager to piece them all together. Rantaro closed the door behind him and watched as Korekiyo ran his finger along the bookshelves, clearly looking for something.

“So…” Rantaro began, unsure how to phrase what he was trying to say. “About our last conversation…”

The anthropologist looked back at him with his eyes widened in shock, though they soon returned to their regular state.

“Yes, that…” He sighed. “I do hope your expectations for this ‘date’ are low. I have work that needs to be done.”

“Yeah, I just wanted to say sorry for teasing you like that.” Rantaro hoped that the apology would go over smoothly, but was just surprised that Kiyo didn’t seem that uncomfortable to begin with. “I’m not actually trying to come onto you.”

“That’s a relief.” Kiyo responded. It was weird how easy it was to tell when he was smiling under the mask.

“I have… prior commitments.”

“Yeah, I figured as much.” Rantaro responded as he tightened his grip on his book. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

He scratched the back of his head with his free hand while kicking himself for being so damn awkward.

“Or is it a girl?”

“What ‘it’ is, is none of your business.”

Holy shit, he thought Byakuya had a good death glare.

“Alright man, sorry.” Rantaro stared at the floor for a moment as he tried to find a good way to get the hell out of this conversation. He couldn’t even begin to understand why his classmate would be so insistent about hiding his love life, but it didn’t really concern him in the end.

Fortunately, the opportunity presented itself soon enough.

“Why don’t we keep reading that book?” Korekiyo asked, the venom in his voice from just a few seconds ago now completely gone. “I think your insight may prove valuable.”

“Um, yeah, sure.” Rantaro stammered out, knowing that Korekiyo would not even attempt to return the traveler’s respect for privacy, should this conversation go where he assumed it would go.

He sat down in the corner of the room and reopened it as carefully as he could, lest the pages come out from overapplication of force. As he shuffled through the pages to try and find the spot he left off at, he was surprised to feel the form of his new studying partner brush up against him.

“Ignore me, I was hoping I could watch you as you read.”

And so, Rantaro did his best to ignore him. The traveler paid no heed to the way Kiyo’s hair was draped over his shoulder, and they way they rubbed together whenever he turned the page and the way Rantaro honestly couldn’t remember what happened in the book when he’d stopped reading.

Rantaro was kicking himself for backing out on calling this a date. He just wished that whoever Kiyo was actually dating knew how lucky they were.

“I believe you left off at the part where the Mongols learned that they would have to sacrifice one of their own to return home.”

With Kiyo’s words, Rantaro was hurtled back into reality. He skipped a few pages while muttering something about missing his place. After silently thanking him for telling him these people were Mongolian, he continued reading.

The island was inhabited by fierce monsters. The description that the text gave for these monsters was bizarre and seemed to contradict itself at several points, though that could have just been Rantaro’s poor translating. Fortunately, the monsters used a man dressed like a western monk as a go-between for them and their victims, so he didn’t have to think too much about them. The monk informed the men that they must offer up one of their own as a sacrifice if they wanted to leave the island.

The narrator then describes how their leader reacted to this news, and all too familiar scene plays out. Their leader insists that they would never give up one of their own, and that their bonds were unshakable.

The man flicked his wrist, and pillars of light came raining from the sky, skewering the leader dozens of times over.

Rantaro had to stop reading for a second. Such fantastical imagery shouldn’t inspire such a visceral reaction from Rantaro, but he just couldn’t help it.

“Is something the matter?” Kiyo asked, his voice once again acting as an anchor for Rantaro.

“It’s nothing.” He responded, lying badly.

“I believe you had problems with this yesterday as well.” The anthropologist continued, clearly more motivated by curiosity than concern. “You said something about your oldest sister, did you not?”

Rantaro didn’t respond for a minute, trying to find the right way to explain himself.

“When I was younger, every single one of my siblings went missing over the course of-“

“Do try to keep your explanation precise. I asked why you reacted so strongly to the spears, nothing more.”

“And just how the hell did you become the ultimate anthropologist when you’re bad at talking to people?” Rantaro snapped as he inched away from his classmate, unsure what it was he found so attractive about him now that they were actually talking.

Silence once again fell over the pair and the ticking of the clock was the only sound in the back room.

“I am sorry-“

“No, you’re not.” The traveler hissed. “You just want me to keep telling the story.”

“That is part of my motivation.”

At least he had the decency to admit it.

“But for what it’s worth, I do recognize I was being rude.”

Rantaro let out a deep sigh and finally moved back to his position nestled up against Kiyo. After another moment of silence, he continued his story about his sisters without interruption.

“Anyways, I won’t bore you with the details, but I managed to find all of them after travelling the world by myself for about two years straight. Blew through a lot of my family’s money to do it but hey, they’re safe and sound.”

“Your family’s money?” Kiyo repeated Rantaro’s words with a surprising degree of interest in his voice. “Do you come from a wealthy family?”

“Yeah, actually. We’re pretty to close to the Togamis in terms of power.” Rantaro let out a nervous chuckle. “But, uhh, thanks to my… ‘spending spree’, I guess is what we’ll call it… I don’t get to see much of that money anymore.”

“I see.” Kiyo hummed out. “Did you manage to find all of your sisters?”

At least he was being polite about steering the conversation.

“Well, I _found_ them all, but… My oldest sister was dead by the time I reached her.”

“What happened to her?”

Rantaro did his best to tell the story without it bothering him, though he could tell that it was going to be obvious no matter how hard he tried to contain his composure.

“It took so long to find her ‘cause at some point after being separated from me, she’d ended up joining some private military company. On top of that, she’d been using a western name to hide her identity for some reason.”

* * *

_She was ten years his senior and had always been eccentric, but Rantaro was beyond shocked to learn that she had become a professional killer. With the way that she acted like a caring parental figure to everyone around her, she was the nicest person he’d ever met._

_Maybe she used the pseudonym to hide what she’d become_.

* * *

“But I did finally manage to track her down to a small town in America, though I have no idea what she and the other soldiers were doing there.”

* * *

_Rantaro didn’t have much of a plan for what he’d say to her and occurred to him at one point that she might not want to come home. That didn’t matter. He had a responsibility to his family to uphold, and he wouldn’t let a family member throw themselves into danger like that._

* * *

“But when I got there…”

* * *

_He saw the smoke in the distance while driving up the road, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of the town itself._

_It was hot. Too hot for anything to survive._

_Craters from explosions pocketed the entire town, and it was impossible to see more than twenty feet in front of him the haze of smoke and debris._

_The air reeked of sulfur and copper and human waste. Parts of the ground beneath him clung to his feet. The viscera of the townsfolk had congealed into a mud-like state from the excessive heat._

_Any living people he found just ran away from him like he was some sort of monster._

* * *

“She was already dead.”

* * *

_He found her in the one building untouched by the desolation around him. The bleachers made him assume it was a gym, but he couldn’t really tell in his smoke-induced delirium._

_Her body couldn’t have even been retrieved._

_Spears and javelins and stakes of every kind were driven through every part of her, nailing her to the ground like a piece of cheap carpentry. He found her lying on the center of the floor like some macabre art piece._

* * *

“Something involving spears, I assume?”

Korekiyo’s voice sure had a way killing the mood, though Rantaro could really complain about it this time.

“… Yeah. I’d rather not go into detail.”

“That is quite alright.” Korekiyo assured him as he got up and began rummaging through the bookshelf. “I don’t believe I need a description to know exactly what happened.”

“What do you mean?” Rantaro asked, trying to use his curiosity to stave off the horror and grief of reliving the discovery of his sister’s corpse.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but the next thing that happens in that book is the survivors of the shipwreck turning on each other, correct?”

Rantaro certainly didn’t have the patience to bother trying to read the rest of the thing, but the very next sentences described a fight breaking out, so he assumed Korekiyo was correct.

“Have you read this book before?”

“Yes and no.” The answer being cryptic didn’t necessarily surprise Rantaro, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating. “You see,-“

“Wait.” Rantaro held up a finger as he stood up and put his free hand on his hip. “Do you hear that?”

The anthropologist’s eyes widen in fear. There was no way he couldn’t have heard a terrible noise like that.

“Kiyo, don’t take this the wrong way, but…” Rantaro’s voice trailed off.

“When was the last time you ate?”

He didn’t respond and suddenly took a great interest in the floor. The snappy attitude and the lack of respect for personal space suddenly started to make a lot more sense. Honestly, Rantaro was just impressed he’d managed to hold in the noise of his stomach growling for that long.

“The dining hall’s still open, you know.”

“I suppose… I could use some food.” Kiyo stammered out in response, his gaze still locked onto the floor. He nodded to Rantaro in thanks as the traveler opened the door for him. Their walk to the dining hall was quiet. It was unsurprising, but still uncomfortable.

“So what made you get into anthropology?” Rantaro asked him, determined to break the awkward silence.

For a few seconds, the only thing they heard was the sound of their footsteps going down the stairs to the first floor.

“My sister encouraged me.” He finally responded in a voice that was even more reserved than normal. “She and I were both always fascinated by the idea of multiple cultures creating the same stories independently of one another.”

“What do you mean she ‘was’ fascinated?” Rantaro knew the answer pretty much as soon as the question came out of his mouth, though he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“She passed away quite a few years ago.” It was kind of surprising how fast Kiyo responded.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” He was tempted to ask more, but it seemed like a touchy subject, and he definitely didn’t want to be a hypocrite. There was a yet another moment of silence as they finally approached the entrance to the dining hall.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I truly have no need of your condolences.”

That was a loaded sentence if Rantaro ever heard one.

Before he could dwell on the potential meaning of that for too long, someone walked out of the dining hall in a bit of a hurry. She didn’t seem to notice that she’d bumped into Rantaro until she heard him fall flat on his ass.

Even then, she didn’t try to help him up. She just dramatically stopped as if she’d heard something offensive.

“Watch where you’re going!” Rantaro shouted. It’s not like he was attached to Kiyo or anything, but you don’t just bump into people and then stand around like they’re the one in the wrong.

Judging from the icy look she was giving him, Mukuro Ikusaba, the ultimate soldier, seemed annoyed by his remark.

Rantaro’s heart froze, and his knees were just about ready to cave in.

For the second time in his life, he felt someone staring at him with genuine killing intent in their eyes.

It couldn’t even be compared to a predator sizing up its prey. She didn’t need to do anything like that for both of them to know she could kill him in seconds.

The only thing her glare did, and the only thing it needed to do, was communicate the fact that, if she was alive, he existed at her mercy.

Another, much faster, pair of footsteps approached from behind this newly created trio. Rantaro was snapped out of his fear induced trance and finally noticed his brow was covered in sweat.

“Sorry! So sorry about that!” Makoto Naegi, the only person willing to follow Mukuro around, profusely spouted out as he came into Rantaro’s sight. Without even thinking, he extended his arm to help Kiyo up off the floor.

“It-It’s fine.” Kiyo stammered out, clearly as dumbfounded by the change in tone as Rantaro was.

“Accidents happen, right?” Makoto asked as he looked up to the soldier.

A second long period of awkward silence lasted an eternity for Rantaro.

“My bad.” Said Mukuro, who then walked away without another word.

The air around them got a lot less cold after that.

“She do that a lot?” Rantaro asked. It was partially out of curiosity, though it was no accident that his spite leaked into his voice.

“Um, not really… I promise!” Makoto answered as he shrank back a bit from the pair. “She’s just been acting weird today.”

“I guess it can’t be helped.” Rantaro huffed out. It just now dawned on him that he had no idea why he was so offended on Korekiyo’s behalf. Then he asked a question that was probably a little too personal for him, considering that they’d never held a conversation until this moment.

“How’s Komaru doing? I heard something happened to her.”

“Huh?” Makoto was taken aback by the question, but he bounced back pretty quickly. “She’s doing better now. They said she should be able to return to class tomorrow.”

His classmates weren’t kidding about this guy being an open book.

“What happened to her, anyway?” If Makoto was so willing to answer questions, then it was probably fine to ask further.

“Well…” Makoto’s voice trailed off as he scratched his cheeks. “No one’s really sure. She just passed out and didn’t wake up until two days ago.”

All this happening during the third week was a pretty bad omen.

“Anyways, I gotta go catch up with Mukuro, I’ll see you later!” Makoto suddenly remarked as he shook his head as if to snap himself out of something. With those words he ran off leaving Rantaro alone with a dazed Korekiyo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I may have overdone the way I characterize Rantaro through the Pov but I also kind of like it. what do yall think?

**Author's Note:**

> if I take too long to update go bully me on twitter @butternubs3


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